


Learning to Grow

by gaurdian9sunshine



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Mages, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:04:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3649665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaurdian9sunshine/pseuds/gaurdian9sunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clair Trevelyan has grown up in the Circle of Magi her entire life. This is her story of how she is learning to adapt to living outside the circle for the first time in her life and able to make her own decisions for her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a series about Clair Trevelyan. I plan on posting them in chronological order, from when she just became Herald until after the defeat of the Elder One. Feel free to comment, or kudo. Leave questions if you wish. Thanks for reading.

They’ve been walking toward the crossroads for about a week now. There had been several rifts popping up, and they clear them without any trouble. Cassandra watches the Herald as she closes rifts and fights demons what appears to be with ease. 

They finally reach the Hinterlands. Clair stays focused on what they need to do there. She makes her way to the refugee camp and talk to the Revered Mother. When they get there, they find the entire area is in turmoil. 

They start moving through the area before the crossroads, and are attacked by bandits. Clair freezes. This is a person. He might have a family, friends, children. She doesn’t know if she can do this. Cassandra is being flanked by one of them. Things go in slow motion for a few seconds.

She finally makes the decision to let loose a chain lightning before the bandit flanks Cassandra. It arches and strikes several more. Many of them fall to the ground, and Varric and Cassandra are able to finish them off. 

Clair walks over to the man she killed, still clutching her staff, even after the rest of them put their weapons away. 

“You didn’t flinch once when killing demons, but bandits? You choke up. Why?” Cassandra asks harshly. 

“Ease up on her, Seeker.” Varric says.

Clair vomits in the tall grass nearby, still reeling from her first kill. It tastes of bile and burns her throat coming up, chunks of her breakfast coming up as well. Unease and dread washes over her body. She vomits again, and it’s just bile this time, burning more than the first time. Cold sweat drenches her body, and she feels she might pass out. She was almost too late. Cassandra could’ve been seriously hurt or even killed if she didn’t act, and she nearly did. 

“You ok, Cupcake?” Varric asks, slowly approaching her. She grabs for her water container, rinsing her mouth out and spitting it out again to remove the bile in her mouth. 

Cassandra closes in and asks, “Are you alright?” 

“Not really, but we have things to do.” Clair says indifferently. She sits down in the grass several feet away from her puke. She sees Solas searching through his pack, and he pulls out a herb.

“Here. Eat this. It will help with the nausea.”

“Thanks.” She replies, grateful for his help. He nods in acknowledgment. 

She begins chewing on the spicy herb. It does settle her stomach and even calms her nerves. After she is does so, she stands back up, and they make their way to the crossroads.

\-----  
After her meeting with Mother Giselle, they go back to their camp nearby. Cassandra approaches her as she gets ready to sleep.

“I’m sorry about earlier. After the fight with the bandits.” Cassandra says. Clair doesn’t know how to respond at first.

“What.. why are you apologizing?” The day’s events still weigh heavy on her mind. She feels guilty for not acting sooner. 

“You’re new to fighting. I can tell. I’m not saying you’re not talented. I shouldn’t have gotten angry like that.” 

“You were right though. I flinched. I hesitated. I put us all in danger.” she says with disgust, all of it directed at herself. 

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Thank you. There’s nothing to forgive.” 

The is a long pause before Cassandra speaks again. “Clair?” 

“Yes?”

“Sleep well.”

“You too, Seeker.”


	2. Tale of the Chmpion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clair talks to Cullen about what she finds in The Tale of the Champion.

Clair is in her quarters in Haven, beginning to read the Tale of the Champion again. She ghosts over several chapters to find what she is looking for. She reads the words on the page. Mages aren’t people. They can’t be treated like you or me. Does he still feel this way? Not wishing to cause a scene, she decides not to catch the book on fire. 

She feels bile coming up from her stomach and just makes it outside before vomiting. How could she be such an idiot? Templars don’t court mages. They might have their way with one in a dark hallway and hopes no one notices. Even if they did care, they couldn’t openly show it. She was a fool to think he could see her as anything more than a ‘dangerous mage’.

She loses herself for a moment in her thoughts. Her body is still mildly exhausted. She begins to walk back into her room when she sees Varric approaching her. Maker, what now?

“Cupcake! Do you want to come to the tavern and get a bite to eat?”

“I think I’ll pass, Varric.” she says. Food sounds even less appetizing than before she lost her lunch in the grass.

“You’ve been cooped up in your room all afternoon. Being around people will be good for you.” 

“Thanks, but no thanks, Varric.” she says, as she walks back into her room. She knows she probably should’ve went with him, but she just wanted to be alone. 

She starts reading more of the book. She’s read the book before, several times in fact. But each time she did, it didn’t have much meaning or impact. She didn’t know anyone in it, but this time, it was different. . Cullen did break up the fight between the mages and templars when the Chancellor came. Maybe...

She hears a knock on the door. “Varric, I already told you, I’m not interested.”

“I.. sorry Herald. I’ll come back later.” Cullen says though the door.

“Wait! Come in!” Clair says hastily, hoping he didn’t walk away yet.

He opens the door. She sees him carrying a tray full of food.

“Where do want this?” he asks, looking around her small room.

She rushes over to her desk and tries to clear it quickly knocking her inkwell over, spilling onto her desk. She sits the inkwell back up, but not before it makes a mess of several papers and some ends up on the floor. She hears Cullen laughing behind her. 

“Maker, what a mess.” she says, as she runs her hand over her face. She turns to look at Cullen, still holding the tray of food. “Just put it on the bed.” She looks at her desk chair. It has ink all over it as well. She looks around the room for something to contain the mess, but sees nothing. 

She walks back over to her bed, where Cullen has sat down at the foot. She still doesn’t want to eat anything, but decides to anyway. They begin eating the food he brought. 

“How did your campaign through the storm coast go?” he asks. She’s glad that he broke the silence.

“It went well. We have a new agent. We also found some Warden documents for Blackwall, and we tracked a warden out there too, but didn’t find him.”

“Good. I’m glad it went well. Aside from finding the warden,” he says, not making eye contact.

They sit in mildly awkward silence for a few moments, still eating the food on the tray. 

“Is that the only thing you wanted to talk to me about?” Clair says bravely. The contents of the book still on her mind. Is she being foolish for finding him attractive? Wanting to get to know him better? How does he see her?

“It sounds like you have something on your mind, Herald,” he says, almost like it is a question. Her mind races. She wishes she didn’t bring it up. 

“I, ah, yes. I do.” pausing to take a deep breath “I read the Tale of the Champion again. And I.. you were in it. I am aware Varric lies and stretches the truth, but.. you were in this book, Cullen.” She makes eye contact and knows fear and dread are plastered across her face. 

“What did the book say?” he asks.

Finding boldness she didn’t know she had, “Do you think mages are people?” she sees Cullen’s face lose all color out of it. He doesn’t speak for a moment. 

“They are.” He looks at her, with sincerity in his eyes and voice. “I treated mages with distrust, and most of the time without cause. That was unworthy of me.”

“That isn’t...” what I thought you’d say. “I mean- I’m glad you feel that way... not that I... Maker’s breath,” she says, hoping her voice didn't crack. 

“It’s ok,” he says, almost sounding like he’s pleading. “Templars and mages... we haven’t always... well, I’m not saying anything that you don’t know already.”

Clair looks at him, warmth under her cheeks. “Thank you for your honesty. I know it might be hard, but I’d like to move forward. Is that something that’s ok with you?”

“Of course!” he says without hesitation. 

They exchange shy glances back and forth until the food tray is empty.

“Cullen?” she asks.

“Yes?”

“Could we do this again? I mean, if that’s what you want or... um. I would like to get to know you better.”

“I would like that.” They both briefly make eye contact.

Cullen picks up the tray, smiling at her while doing so, and exists her quarters.

\---------  
Cullen leaves her room, bidding her goodnight, taking the food tray with him. Is she nervous around him because he was a templar, or is it because she feels for him? Is he looking too far into this? Both reasons aren’t all that pleasant to begin with. Well, the second thought is , but it isn’t . He cares for her. More than he should. He doesn’t want her to be afraid of him. 

Varric interrupts his thoughts. “Curly! How did your time with Cupcake go?” 

“It went fine, thank you,” Cullen says politely, wanting to rid himself of the dwarf’s presence as fast as possible.

“You know, you and Cupcake are a lot alike, did you know that?” Cullen turns around, looking at the dwarf . “Don’t look so surprised. You have both been through a lot. That’s all I’m saying.” And he walks off.

Maybe the dwarf is right. He has been so focused on their differences. Never taking the time to try to find common ground. Maybe there were similarities between them, he just needs to look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank my amazing beta, signcherie for being so supportive and amazing. I know I haven't updated in awhile, but the goal is to post something every 10 days or less. comments and kudos are appreciated!


	3. Disbanding the Templar Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Clair talk about her decision to disband the templar order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank for reading, leaving Kudos and comments! I am unsure when the next chapter will come out, but will try within the next 3 weeks. The next chapter is going to be longer than the others.

Clair wonders if she did the right thing. Disbanding the templars? She never thought it would come to that. She leaves the chantry, walking, looking down at the ground.   
“Thanks for letting me stay.” She hears a voice, but doesn’t see anybody as she looks around. He appears in front of her.   
“Cole! You scared me.” She takes a moment to speak again, trying to regain her composure. “Thanks for your help. I am grateful for what you have done.”  
“Clair, You helped the templars. You helped people when they might’ve killed others.”  
“I’m worried about the consequences of disbanding the templar order and, well.”  
“He is coming to make that right.” Cole says cryptically. She hears a noise, and he is gone. He’s a strange one.   
Clair hears the chantry door open and turns around to see Cullen leaving. She watches Cullen walk towards her. Her heart starts to race. She doesn’t want to get yelled at again.   
“Can I, ah, talk to you?” Cullen says nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.   
“You’re talking to me right now, aren’t you?” she says, still mildly hurt about him confronting her about her decision, but hides it in her voice.   
“I mean, somewhere more, private? Away from earshot of half the camp?”  
“How about we take a walk by the frozen lake?” Clair says, still nervous, but not nearly as anxious as when he first walked up to her.  
“Ok, lets go.” They begin their walk to the lake. They don’t say anything on their way.   
“There is a dock around the other side. Let’s sit up there, if that’s ok?” Clair asks, most of her nervous energy gone.   
“Ok.” He says, with a smile on his face. She leads him through the trees to the dock. She sits on the dock, legs dangling off.  
“You wanted to talk to me?” She says, glancing over at him shyly.   
“Yes, I..” he pauses, “I wanted to apologize. You didn’t deserve my anger. You did what you needed to do.”   
She can hardly believe what she is hearing. He did just say that, she’s sure of it. “I..I.. don’t know what to say. No templar I ever knew, and I knew a few, ever said sorry. Even the good ones.” she says, eyes looking down at the frozen water.   
“Well, I’m not a templar any longer.”  
That may be true, but it still shapes him and who he is. She didn’t make the decision to disband the templars lightly. He was right to be concerned. She sees he is trying to change.   
“I forgive you.” she says, knowing he is trying to move forward from his former like. So is she.  
She looks up from the frozen lake to gaze at him. For a moment she thinks he is going to lean in and kiss her. Her cheeks flush at the thought. Anyone else might have commented, but not him.   
They sit there together, watching the sun’s last rays of the day reflecting off the frozen lake.   
“Is there anything else?” She says softly. She sees the sun setting, and knows they have to get back to camp soon.   
“No. I um..” he says. She glances up at his face.  
“Yes?”   
“It’s nothing.” he says.  
She knows it isn’t nothing.   
“Let’s go back to camp before we are missed,” she says. Cullen doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t have to. He follows her jump. She wants to slip her hand into his, but she thinks it would be inappropriate, so she decides not to.   
He walks her back to her room and bids her good night. She watches out her window to see him walking to his room. She changes into her nightclothes and goes to sleep.


	4. From Haven to Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clair escapes Corypheus to find herself very hurt and doesn't know if she will survive to see the rest of the Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Major Injury   
> TW Gore  
> Light violence  
> Religious themes   
> Huge thanks to my beta, signcherie for the beta.

Clair wakes up, face down in the snow. She tries to use her hands to roll over but quickly finds her hands have cuts and scratches on them. A pain in her right shoulder flares and she struggles to keep the bile from surfacing in her mouth. She turns over quickly to her back and vomit spews out of her mouth, some of it splatters on her armor. She turns her body away quickly and sits up. Pain ripples throughout her entire body, and she nearly screams. 

Screeching reaches her ears. Demons. Maker, why didn’t she even survive?

The Mark on her hand twitches and flares green, the pain excruciating. Nearly as bad as earlier when Corypheus tried to rip it off of her. She clenches her hand in a fist, tears streaming down her face. 

Another screech. It was louder than the previous one. They’re close.

Healing magic. _I have to try_. She puts her hands together and a faint blue light comes forth, healing the cuts on her hands, and she stops, knowing she will have to use her magic again soon. The pain in her hands subside, but she knows that is the least of her worries.

Using her hands, she stands up. The pain in her shoulder flares again. She realizes quickly she can’t use that arm, so she curls her arm around herself, trying to find the most pain-free position.

Screech.

Too close. She sees an doorway nearby. She prepares herself to cast magic again. She finds her staff nearby, and decides to may be better to bring it with her. The Mark’s green magic flares again but she is more prepared for it. 

Screech. They are in the next room. She is sure of it. She places a barrier around herself and travels to the next room, ignoring the pain throughout her entire body.

Her eyes dart around the small passage. She sees the demons close by and her mark flares again. It feels different than when she is near a rift. She knows one isn’t nearby. 

There are too many of them! She would be overrun within seconds of using her first spell. 

The Mark. Maybe. Maybe it can be used as a weapon. Every time she has used it before, it was to close, but what happens if she uses it to open? 

She uses it, this time to open. The demons screech again, and are pulled into the Fade, staff clanking as it drops to the ground. She falls to her knees. Partly because of the energy she just used, and partly because of the pain in her shoulder. Chest. Arms. Everywhere.

The demons are gone. She is in no immediate danger. She feels like she can breathe for the first time since she woke face down in the snow. 

She stands up and see a blizzard in front of her, and two alcoves on either side of the large room. Deciding she may need something if she is to go out in the snow, she limps over to the one on her left. Heart sinking to the ground when she finds nothing.

With worry in her heart, she walks over to the one on the other side of the room. 

Food? No, just alcohol. She picks it up, with dust on the bottle, and seal still intact. She has no idea how she is going to get it open. On a normal day she had trouble getting a bottle open, now, she knew it was impossible.

_Am I going to die in here?_

Nobody knows where she is. This cave, has kept the worst weather out, but what are her chances if she stays? What are her chances out there? 

Pain still a constant reminder that she is alive. _I am alive._

She knows the rest of the Inquisition fled. Up the mountain. She knows she won’t last long with her injuries, but will she make it if she steps outside into the snow?

The pack she had has some things, like water, but wasn’t enough to survive on for a prolonged period of time. She takes out the water from her pack. It’s frozen. Her heart sinks to the floor.

She slinks to the ground and cries again. She struggles to stand. She goes to the exit of the cave. The cold bites at her, even inside the cave.

_Maker, am I going to die here?_

Starving to death for sure or maybe freeze to death before she reaches the other inquisition forces? Small chance is better than none. Clenching her arm, she steps out into the snowstorm and begins walking up the mountain. 

Her armor wasn’t meant to keep out the snow, or the cold. Her body shakes as she wills herself forward, trying to see ahead.

Could she be walking for hours? Days? Or mere minutes? She doesn’t know. She sees a campfire nearby. She dares to hope. When she reaches it, the embers are cold. She falls to her knees, and passes out again. 

Waking up to shooting pain. She can barely open her eyes, they feel like they are sealed shut. She wants to cry but no tears will come this time. She pries herself off the cold ground, snow touching her bare skin.

The snow is still going, and she feels worse than she did when she woke up the first time. 

Using what little willpower she has left in her body, she stands up, and clutched her arm again, holding it close to herself. 

_I have to stand up._

When trying to stand up, she realizes her foot is hurt too. It hurts to stand on. She doesn't know when it happened either. Using most of the remaining strength to stand, she begins walking again. Only the slight angle of the ground a marker that she is going the right direction.

Walking, walking. At least there aren’t any demons around. Pain still there. Constantly threatening her. Making it so it’s hard to walk, feel. Shouldn’t coldness numb the pain, not make it worse? How long has she been walking? She’s so hungry. Light? It’s getting dark. Is that a fire?

She don’t know if she can go on for much more. She keep walking, forever walking. They see her. She sees people, and collapses into the snow.

 

_____

“It’s her!” Cullen cries out, as he watches Clair drops to the ground. She’s alive!

He runs over to her, his heart sinking to the ground. Will she make it? She’s so cold and has cuts on her face. He takes his large soft mantle and wraps her in it. He sees the way she is cradling her arm. She’s hurt. Bad. But he notices slight rise and fall of her chest. However labored her breathing is, she’s still alive. He picks her up in his arms and starts walking back to the camp, hoping, praying that she will live. 

The journey back to the camp is long. He watches her eyes flutter and her body shudders. He holds her closer, hoping she will take some of his body heat. She’s so cold. He walks her to camp, fearful for her life.

\----  
The healer’s tent isn’t very large, but serves a purpose. He brings Clair’s broken body to them.

 _Maker, guide her. Andraste, save your Herald_ , he prays. 

He places her on a cot, and the healers start to do their work. He watches them rip and tear off her armor and clothes. Clair is still unconscious.

One of the older healers says, “Are you just going to stand there and watch? Out!” 

He leaves the tent reluctantly, wanting to be there when she wakes. 

\----  
Hours later, one of the healers emerges from the tent and approaches Cullen. “How is she?” he asks when the healer gets close.

“She’s hurt. Several fractures. Broken bones. Dislocated shoulder. She’s lucky to have survived.”

“Can you help her?” he asks without hesitation, not concealing the worry in his face.

“Yes. She will survive. The road ahead for her, however, will not be easy.”

“I understand. And thank you.”

The healer nods to him and enters the tent once more.

He paces several more times outside the tent. 

He hears muffled spoken words inside the tent but can’t make out what they are saying. 

The lead healer informs him and several inner circle members of the Herald’s condition. It isn’t good, she said. They were told she could’ve died several ways before she reached them. The cold was the least of her worries. Her being so cold didn’t do them any favors either. 

Every injury Cullen hears about, his gut churms. He feels like it is his fault for leaving her, for not having her come with them. For not protecting her better. His nightmares are worse than ever, if he even sleeps at all. He has dreams of her getting ripped apart. Of her in pain, in agony, and he is trapped with no way to reach her. He wakes up with sweat covering his body. 

When sleep eludes him, he keeps pacing outside her tent, hoping she will wake. 

He sits down on the ground, and before long, not even meaning to, he falls asleep.

He is awakened by voices. Her voice. 

“What do you mean?”

“Your shoulder, it hurts terribly, yes?” A healer’s voice. And Clair’s. Cullen shakes the sleep from his face and listens.

“Yes, the bone isn’t where it should be. It has to be put back into place.”

“And after it is put back into place, will the pain stop?”

There is a long pause. Too long.

“It will be more painful, at least at first. If we don’t do this, you will lose function of that arm. You already started feeling it haven’t you?”

“Yes,” he hears her choke back. Maker, are they really going to do this now? She just woke up!

“Try to relax. Hold still. Drink this first.” He knows they are giving her alcohol. Hard liquor. Maybe it won’t be as bad as they said for her. 

A few minutes later, he hears the healer again, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

A blood curdling scream echoes across the camp, and then stops abruptly. He stands up and goes into the tent.

The healer from the other day, who told him to get out says, “What are you doing in here? Out!”

“Is she... is she in a lot of pain? Is she going to be ok?”

“You should be more worried about yourself. You look terrible. Go get some sleep.” 

He walks out of the tent, not really wanting to leave. She passed out because of how much pain she is in. 

_Maker, take her pain away. Let me have it instead. Andraste, she is your Herald. Help her._

Tears stream down his face. He flees back to his tent. She is in so much pain. He should’ve been there. He should’ve helped her as she was injured. He should’ve gone back for her. Done something. 

Instead... _Maker forgive me._

He lays down on his cot and falls right to sleep. Her screams finding their way into his dreams.

 

\-----

 

Days have passed. She hardly is awake. The day after they set her arm, they said her body was in shock because of the pain. They say she was lucky to have made it to them with all her injuries. 

The waiting is killing him. He wants to see her. To know if she will be alright. Despite the healer’s reassurances, he is having a hard time believing she will ever be okay with what she has been through.

“She’s asking for you. She wants to see you.” one of the healers informs him.

“She does? I mean- thank you for telling me.” He stands up quickly, and heads to the healer's tent. The last time he was in here she was in bad shape. He didn’t know if she would even wake. Now-.

“Cullen?” she says, as he looks at her for the first time in days despite hearing her. Maker. He hopes he will never be in that much pain ever again. The cuts on her face still look painful, but she is awake. And alive.

“Yes?” he finally manages to say.

“Would you like to sit? There’s a small stool over here somewhere,” she says keeping her voice even. He can tell she is still in pain and trying to conceal it from him. Maker, is there anyone more selfless than her?

The stool is where she said it would be, and he pulls it up next to her. 

He sits down, not knowing what to say to her. Everything he wants to say he doesn’t feel is a good time. She about died, she could’ve died. Now, he sits near her. Her eyes are on him. She looks better than she did though. She’s recovering.

“I, uh.. wanted to thank you. I don’t remember much when I fell in the snow, but I remember you. You carried me back.”

“I... I’m glad I found you. You could’ve...” _died out there._ “I promise you: I will do everything in my power to make what happened at Haven will never happen again. You have my word.”

“Cullen, it isn’t your fault what happened at Haven.” Can she see into him as he can her?

“As you say, Herald,” trying to appease her, not really believing what she says though.

She repositions herself on the small cot she is laying on, flinching as she tries to become more comfortable. 

“Is there anything I can do?” he asks hesitantly, unsure of her reply.

“I... I’m fine. Thank you,” she says as she winces again.

“You don’t have to be polite, Clair.” 

“There’s no hiding anything from you, is there? You already know, don’t you?” she says as she closes her eyes. “I am in pain. A lot of it. Never so much in my entire life. But I will get through this. I’m alive, thanks to you, Cullen.”

Cullen doesn’t know how to reply to her. His heart swells with love for her. “You’re welcome, Clair.” 

A smile crosses her face. He never seen her smile before.

“I hate to do this, but... I am really tired. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll let you rest. I will see you tomorrow,” he says, looking forward to something for the first time in a long time.


End file.
